No Stone Unturned

by C. J. Johnson

  Sarah watched Tre get out of the car and knew this was her only chance to get away. If she didn’t make a run for it he might kill her. She waited until he lifted the hood of the car then slowly opened the door, praying he wouldn’t hear it creak. She crept out of the car then began to run. Sarah could hear him yelling but didn’t turn around to see if he was following her.

  She didn’t know where she was going other than away from him. Sarah darted through a yard, slipped on the wet leaves, and landed face first on the ground. She scrambled back to her feet and continued to run towards a better lit area. Sarah glanced over her shoulder and looked to see if he was following her. She couldn’t see him but didn’t stop running. Suddenly Sarah could see businesses and lights ahead. She didn’t know what time it was but hoped someone would still be out.

  Once she was on the street with businesses surrounding her she pulled her cellphone from her purse. Sarah pressed the numbers quickly, from memory, and when she heard his voice she choked back a sob, “Daddy…help me.”

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “Where are you Sarah? Are you okay?”

  The sobs overcame her. Sarah struggled to get any words out.

  “Sarah, are you okay?”

  “Daddy, I’m so scared.”

  Sarah’s father jumped out of the bed and began to search for his glasses. “Where are you baby girl?”

  Seeing a security guard, she yelled, “Please help me!” Sarah stumbled over to him and handed him the phone. “Can you please tell my daddy where we are?”

  The security guard gave Sarah’s father the address.

  “Will you please stay with her until I can get there?” he asked.

  “Yes sir. I’ll make sure the police get called too,” the security guard replied.

  Sarah sat down on the curb and wept. Her body hurt everywhere but she was finally safe. And her dad was coming. Tre couldn’t hurt her now.

  Chapter 6

  The shrill ring of the telephone pierced the night.

  Breathing heavily, Detective Francesca “Frankie” Thomas, struggled to extricate herself from the tangled sheets to silence the sound. Grabbing the phone, she grunted, “Dammit!”

  Looking at the caller-id she answered, “Detective Thomas.”

  Frankie wrapped the sheet around her taut, naked body, and grabbed the pen and notepad lying on the bedside table. The only light in the room came from the alarm clock next to the bed.

  Frankie turned the bedside lamp on as she peppered the caller with questions, jotting the answers onto her notepad.

  “Where is she now? Is there anyone in custody? Where are you?”

  Frankie glanced at the clock, “I should be there in about thirty minutes. No, I’ll call Crime Scene en route.”

  Frankie disconnected the phone, laid back onto the bed, and hit the pillow with her hands. “Dammit.”

  The howl of the wind echoed in the dark room. Derek rolled over, lifted himself up onto his elbow, and placed his other hand across her abdomen. The sheets slipped to his narrow waist as he leaned down and kissed Frankie gently on the nose.

  “Tell me it ain’t so.”

  “Sorry babe. Duty calls. Trust me, I’d much rather stay here tangled up in these sheets with you.” Frankie gently traced the pink scar on Derek’s side with the tips of her fingers, remembering. She sighed, sat up in the bed, and got her clothes on to leave.

  “Where’re you headed? Is it still raining?”

  Frankie gathered her things, as she talked. “Westport. Kidnap and rape. A security guard found a girl wandering in the streets and called 9-1-1. They sent her to County Hospital but officers are still on the scene. I’m going to go there first then head over to the hospital. There’s no one in custody so I’m betting it’ll only take three or four hours tops.”

  Derek followed Frankie to the kitchen, walked up, and stood behind her. Frankie grabbed her holstered gun from the table and slid it over her belt.

  “Famous last words. But just in case you need an incentive to hurry back…” Standing a full head taller than Frankie’s five feet he leaned down and brushed the nape of her neck with his lips, letting them slide downwards towards her collarbone. His hands encircled her waist.

  An involuntary moan escaped Frankie’s lips. “Seriously, I have to go...but I’ll be back.”

  Derek turned Frankie to face him and covered her mouth with his, smothering the sound of the words. When he was certain he had left her aching for more he released his grip and said, “Wake me up when you’re finished,” Derek winked and squeezed her butt when she turned to walk towards the door. “Feel free to be creative.”

  Walking out the door, Frankie touched her fingers to her lips and mumbled, “Absolutely.”

  Chapter 7

  Frankie drove to Westport in silence. Derek lived at the edge of the city, but the twenty-minute drive went quickly. As she listened to the chatter on the police radio her mind began to wander. It had been over a month but she could remember the day like it had just happened.

  Derek was a county prosecutor and a jury had just handed down a guilty verdict in a case he was trying against a local gang member who had been accused of murdering a four-year-old girl in a drive-by shooting. He and his co-counsel, Jessica Moon, were leaving the courthouse together when an SUV rolled up. They were standing by Derek’s car when the shooter laid down fire. Both Derek and Jessica were hit multiple times. Frankie’s old patrol partner, Mac, was the first on the scene and once the scene was stable he called her.

  Frankie had just gotten a break in a case involving an organized crime family, but as soon as she could she broke away and went to the hospital to check on Derek. When Frankie was leaving the hospital her neighbor, James, was brought in to the Emergency Department. One of the men involved in the case she was working had attempted to kidnap her daughter. James intervened and was shot in the process.

  Frankie solved her case and James was recovering nicely, but something inside her died that night. For the first time in her career she was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.

  When she finally got back to the hospital to see Derek he was coding. She watched the nurses and doctors surround his body and attempt to bring him back to life after he arrested. Frankie stood outside of his room, alone and frightened; wondering if he was going to live or die. It would be hours before anyone would tell her he was going to be okay. Derek and Jessica were touch and go for several days but fortunately both lived and the shooter was in custody awaiting trial.

  The closer Frankie got to the City of Fountains the clearer the skies became. The streets were empty except for a few stray cars. The lateness of the hour and the coldness in the air kept people inside who would otherwise stroll the streets at night. Frankie slowed her car when she saw the rotating blue and red lights marking the crime scene.

  Chapter 8

  Frankie leaned against the patrol car taking notes as Officer Jack Meyers described what occurred prior to her arriving.

  “He’s new. I think he’s been out of the academy maybe three or four days. Poor kid stumbled all over himself,” laughed Meyers.

  “Make sure you help him write the report. I know boots need practice handling these types of calls, but their reports tend to be poorly written.”

  “You were new at one time too kid.”

  “I know, but I had a hard ass for a field training officer, so my reports were always good.” Frankie winked at Meyers who had been her field training officer.

  “Hmm, I guess that’s true. I’ll tell his FTO to make sure it’s done right.”

  “Thanks. What’s her name?”

  Looking at his notes Meyers answered, “Smedley. Sarah Smedley.” He looked at his feet, then back up at Frankie. Almost under his breath he said, “Damn. This one’s legit. She looked so scared and her eyes were… empty. Her hair was all over the place and full of mud and leaves. The buttons on her blouse were missing too. She was walking around with her panties in her hand.”

  Franki
e took note of what Meyers was saying, then asked, “Where’s her car?”

  Meyers gestured over his shoulder to a lot empty but for one car. “It’s that one over there but by all counts he was never near her car.”

  “Do we have a description on him?”

  “Black male over six feet. The Vic’s pretty tall and she said he was taller than her and built like a football player. She described him as having a light complexion and light eyes.”

  “Description on the car?”

  Meyer flipped through his notes. “That’s the weird thing. She said there were two cars. The last one was a black Chevy Capris with a temp tag.”

  “Two cars?”

  “Yeah. He forced her into a red sedan over there,” Meyers pointed towards the curb in front of a bar about fifty yards away. “But at some point in the night he switched cars.”

  “Did the rape occur inside the cars or at some other location around here?”

  “There was more than one location but she didn’t seem to think any of them were around here. At least one occurred in the first car but we don’t know where it is.”

  “Where did she say she first come into contact with him?”

  Jack pointed to the sidewalk in front of the comedy club across the street, “Over there. She was walking from the dance club towards the corner, trying to find her car. She was turned around and couldn’t remember where she parked.”

  Frankie scanned the area then stood quietly looking at the notes on her notepad. The storefronts were dark so she wouldn’t know if there were any surveillance videos available until the next day.

  Frankie grabbed the camera she kept in her bag and started taking photographs of the area. She was almost finished when something caught her attention. Lying on the street, halfway to the corner, was a cellphone case. Frankie snapped a couple photographs and with a gloved hand, picked it up off the ground. The light blue case had a mermaid with a crack that split it in half.

  “Hey Jack!”

  “Yeah.”

  Showing him the phone case, Frankie asked, “Does this mean anything to you?”

  “Not really,” he said. “Wait. She said he threw her phone out of the car. I guess it could have come from her phone, but I don’t see one laying around anywhere.”

  Frankie dropped the phone case into a paper envelope, “Hmm, me either.”

  Once she was satisfied she had all she needed Frankie turned to Meyers and told him he could release the scene.

  “I’m going to head to County to talk to her. Can you please make sure the recruit gets his report in the system before the end of his shift?”

  “Will do Frankie.”

  Chapter 9

  Frankie walked through the doors of the Emergency Department and stood frozen in place. The sounds and smells of the busy ED were muffled as her memories enveloped her. James coming in on a gurney with her daughter Dani following, her clothes tattered. The look of fear on Keith’s face when he walked through the doors. The site of medical personnel working to resuscitate Derek when he coded. The sounds of the machines rang in her ears. Frankie jumped at a touch on her shoulder.

  “Can I help you?” asked the charge nurse.

  Frankie wiped the tears that had escaped her eyes, “I’m here to talk to Sarah Smedley. She was brought in for a forensic exam.”

  They walked to the nurse’s station where the nurse checked the computer, looked up, and said, “Looks like the doctor already cleared her. They moved her to the forensic exam room. It’s 6b – down the hall.”

  “Thank you.”

  The walk to 6b was familiar. Frankie was about to knock on the closed door when the forensic nurse, Jennifer Jacobson, walked out. Jacobson was a short, stout nurse who had worked in the Emergency Department for over thirty years. She built the forensic program from the ground up. She was a typical ER nurse with zero tolerance for nonsense, a force of nature with a big heart. Jacobson had been known to handle a belligerent drunk sternly one minute then move heaven and earth to help a victim of domestic or sexual violence the next. She spent many a long night with victims trying to make an invasive, potentially humiliating, experience as tolerable as possible. Frankie had learned so much about compassion, forensics, and people by watching and listening to Jacobson. Over time she had become both a mentor and friend to Frankie.

  “We haven’t started the exam yet. You can go on in and talk to her. I collected her clothes and swabbed her mouth so she could have some water and a blanket. Beth is with her. We’ll finish up when you’re done.”

  “Thanks Jen.”

  Frankie stepped inside the small, sterile exam room. The face greeting her from the exam table was red with streaks of mascara dissecting her cheeks. Sticks, leaves, and dirt protruded from Sarah’s shoulder-length, raven-colored hair. Dried blood created a crusty glue that held hair against her olive skin. Frankie noticed traces of dirt on Sarah’s nose, chin and ears. She was long and lean but didn’t appear frail. Her hands were dirty and her nails were chipped and broken.

  “Sarah?”

  She opened her eyes and acknowledged Frankie’s presence in the room.

  “My name is Detective Frankie Thomas. I work for the Kansas City Missouri Police Department. I’ll be the detective working your case.”

  Sarah searched Frankie’s face; her eyes were wild with fright.

  “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  Sarah nodded her head in agreement.

  Frankie pulled the digital recorder out of her pocket and moved the stool closer to the side of the bed. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Sarah sighed and shivered involuntarily. Looking towards the advocate sitting next to her, she quietly asked, “May I please have another blanket?” Looking back at Frankie she asked, “Where do I begin?”

  “Just tell me what you remember, how you remember it. Maybe start with when you got to Westport.”

  Chapter 10

  Sarah exhaled with force.

  “I just moved back to Missouri a few weeks ago. I’d been living in Seattle the last five years and my friends wanted to take me out as a welcome home. I had to work late so instead of riding together I met them at the bar. It was probably 7:30 or so when I finally got to the bar. I moved away when I was eighteen so I’d never been to any of the clubs in Westport and was pretty excited. I was raised not to drink alcohol so my mom and dad didn’t really approve. But I’m twenty-three so there wasn’t a lot they could say.

  “We started out at Latitudes. I had a couple drinks and shared some appetizers with my friends. Everyone was having fun. We were reminiscing and catching each other up on our lives. No one wanted to see the night end so about 10 o’clock we decided to go to the Pub to dance. It was so much fun. We danced nonstop for a couple of hours. I started getting hot and a little lightheaded so I stepped outside to get some air. I noticed there was an empty parking space across from the Pub and it hit me that the parking lot across from Latitudes, where I parked, had signs that said two-hour parking. I didn’t want my car to get towed, and I can’t afford a ticket, so I decided to go move it.

  “I thought the parking lot was closer than it was and didn’t think it would take long to move my car. I didn’t even think to go tell my friends where I was going. Since the lot was close to Latitudes I had left my coat in the car. It was cold - the wind felt like a knife cutting through me. I was about to go back inside to borrow a friend’s coat when Tre started talking to me. He was making small talk and offered to give me a ride. I told him no but he put his coat around my shoulders and shoved me into a car.”

  Sarah paused, took a drink of water, and blew her nose. She attempted to wipe away the tears falling down her face, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled before continuing.

  “Once I was inside the car I reached down to open the door to get out. Only,” Sarah stifled an audible moan of distress, “The handle was missing. Actually, the whole door panel was missing. Then he drove past the parking lot. I saw my car and told him to st
op. I told him my car was in that lot, but he told me to shut up. That’s when I knew I was in serious trouble. I wasn’t sure where he was going to take me or what he was going to do so I grabbed my phone and tried to dial 9-1-1. That really made him angry. He grabbed the phone from me and threw it out the window. I watched it break into pieces on the road.”

  Sarah laid her head back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. Frankie waited patiently, knowing better than to rush the process. The missing advocate silently entered the room and placed the warmed blanket over Sarah.

  Softly, Sarah said, “Thank you.”

  Beth touched Sarah’s hand, nodded her head, and sat on a chair.

  Sarah looked over at Frankie, gave a sideways smile, and smirked, “But he didn’t know I had another phone. And I didn’t want him to see it. So, when he wasn’t looking I moved my purse between my leg and the door. I slipped the phone out of the bag and pressed it under my leg slightly so I wouldn’t have to hold it. Then I pressed 9-1-1. I really thought the police would find me. He had the music up pretty loud but I thought the operator could hear me and would send a car to look for me.” Wistfully Sarah whispered, “But no one came.”

  “Sarah had you ever seen this man before?”

  Shaking her head, Sarah said, “No.”

  “Sarah, can I ask why you have two cell phones?”

  “I work for a cell phone company and they pay for me to have a phone as part of my benefits. I still have a contract with another provider so I keep it on in case my other phone dies.”

  “Makes sense. Did you have a case on the phone?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “It was light blue with a mermaid on it. I don’t think it would protect the phone, but it was cute.”

  “Okay, great. What happened next?”

  Frankie listened intently as Sarah shared her experience. She told the story in fragments, not in a linear fashion. Frankie made notes while she listened, paying special attention to her demeanor. Sarah’s tears and trembling hands told of the fear she felt. When Sarah finished, Frankie softly exhaled the breath she had been holding. She watched as Sarah wiped more tears from her face.